


Chihiro's Life Is(n't) That Melancholic

by sugarby



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Canon, Crack-ish, Gen, M/M, School Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 21:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13373013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarby/pseuds/sugarby
Summary: "You aren't making sense," Seijuurou, bless him, actually looks bewildered, and it doesn't suit his usually serious face. "But to compensate me for this," he glances to the mess of splinters in distaste before staring right back at Chihiro, who thinks he could hit him with his book. "I'll have you fulfil requests and tasks for your teammates, myself included.""So I'm your bitch now, huh?"Seijuurou's face is splashed with bewilderment again, but only for a second. He easily looks amused again, that dangerous smirk of his making its reappearance, "If that's how you wish to paraphrase your situation then by all means, Mayuzumi-san, you may refer to yourself as such."





	Chihiro's Life Is(n't) That Melancholic

**Author's Note:**

> The title is meant to convey two perceptions of melancholic being viewed as 'sad', the first being his life is **not** that sad because it's actually _funny_ , the second being **it is** that sad because you sympathise over the situations he's put in (I hope this makes sense).
> 
> Hello!~ I’ve been on a MayuAka fic rampage for some consecutive nights, so naturally this happens~ ❤ (─▽─). I tried out a light novel writing style here but whether or not it gives off that vibe, I can only hope.

**1\. In Which Chihiro's Peace Is Suspended**

It isn's that Chihiro Mayuzumi's life is like a light novel or that he wants it to resemble one, it's that he comes to realise how light novels happen to reflect certain instances of his daily life from time to time. Subtly, until he's conscious of what's happening, because by then it's too late to derail. He has no desire to become involved in continuous misfortune and misadventures wherein which he is the 'chosen one' and must fulfil an ancient prophecy. The rooftop isn't his sacred reading place because he secretly hopes to be wrapped up in such situations, but the rooftop of his high school is automatically interesting because those things tend to happen here in light novels.

In short, the otherwise normal rooftop of his normal high school is made interesting by association.

Chihiro, however, isn't.

Today begins with his attempted resignation from the Rakuzan basketball team. He provides a written letter and everything—of about ten or so words in one sentence:  _'I'm quitting because, in the end, I just want to be left alone in peace and read'_ —since the team captain won't accept anything less than official and professional. Chihiro's even treated as a laid-off colleague, being told how unfortunate and regrettable the situation of his quitting is, but then anything and everything against the wishes of Seijuurou Akashi are, by said man's perspective, unfortunate and regrettable.

Seijuurou's persistent and comes to him afterward on the rooftop, propositioning the same role as the misdirection player their team has been missing for some time.

"No, thanks." Chihiro says, short and simple so the conversation won't have a chance to start. Aside from wanting time to himself a lot, there's the unmissable fact that the captain runs a mercilessly tight ship within the club, and he tends to compare the new misdirection player with the original one he used to play with when they went to Teiko Middle School together.

"Please reconsider. You're a valuable asset to our victory."

"I said  _no_."

"Then you've left me with no other choice." Seijuurou says vaguely, then leaves the rooftop. He comes back in less than a moment with a small, blue and white floral porcelain vase from the stairwell landing downstairs—the expensive-looking one Chihiro can recall passing each time he comes up here. Seijuurou seems as composed as ever for someone who must've leapt down and leapt back up to fetch it in such short time.  _'He's impossible'_ , Chihiro thinks, and starts to eye the vase suspiciously when Seijuurou speaks again, "When something is broken, so long as it can still serve its use, then we needn’t change it.” He releases the vase to let it drop and shatter on the ground, “But if it’s completely useless, a replacement should be found.”

"What the actual fuck?" Chihiro stares at the splinters of glass on the ground, stares up at Seijuurou who remains indifferent and clicks his tongue, "Damn it..." He grumbles. He's been waiting for the Captain's inevitable meltdown from all the constant pressure he's under (like a sadist) and wouldn't have minded being able to catch it on film.

"Don't worry, I will pay for its replacement. In return, you must compensate me."

"You broke it, remember?" Plus, the Akashi family is rich, so why the hell does the heir need to extort him? Chihiro isn't necessarily penniless enough to think such a thing so bitterly but he's worse off than he should be after indulging in deluxe Ringo-tan merchandise recently.

"For you, Mayuzumi-san."

"No one asked you to so why should I? I can just tell teachers that you did this."

Seijuuro smirks, " _Prove_  it." Here it is...the true intention behind his madness. There's always one lurking behind patiently for the best opportunity to surprise people.  
  
Chihiro, for the first time, feels hatred for his life. For the record, he never intended on snitching; it was a bluff to see what kind of reaction he'd get. Closing his book with a cutely designed bookmark inside, he stands up with a hand pocketing in his pants' pocket and gives his underclassman a stern gaze. "I'm not joining a host club."  
  
" _Pardon_?"  
  
" _You heard_. I'm not joining your little host club of obnoxiously good looking miracles."  
  
"You aren't making sense," Seijuurou, bless him, actually looks bewildered, and it doesn't suit his usually serious face. "But to compensate me for this," he glances to the mess of splinters in distaste before staring right back at Chihiro, who thinks he could hit him with his book. "I'll have you fulfil requests and tasks for your teammates, myself included."  
  
"So I'm your  _bitch_  now, huh?"

Seijuurou's face is splashed with bewilderment again, but only for a second. He easily looks amused again, that dangerous smirk of his making its reappearance, "If that's how you wish to paraphrase your situation then by all means, Mayuzumi-san, you may refer to yourself as such." 

 

* * *

 

**2\. The Student Council President's Duties.  
**

The first request to be fulfilled is for Seijuurou Akashi himself. As the student council president, he must adhere to a number of time-consuming tasks such as organising events, inspecting school budget costs and cuts, discussing ways to improve the school and generally busying himself so much there is little time left to scratch his head. Despite being only a first year, he has no problem with handling this amount of responsibility—or he's too proud to admit it or even ask for help. Right now, a number of forms need his attention and he must decide to support or dismiss them, either signing them off with his official signature if they meet all of his criteria to be green lit, or discarding them in the bin beside him. The signed forms are pushed to the end of his makeshift desk (a long row of desks joined together) to be collected, stapled together and slotted in envelopes by his recruited help for the day.

Chihiro's desk is just one, and his chair is smaller and sturdier, so the comparison makes him feel like he's sitting at the kids' table at an adult party. He stares at the high piles of paper surrounding the Student Council President like a city of paper skyscrapers though and considers he's still in a more fortunate position.

"Mayuzumi-san, you're free to take a break in about twenty minutes or so."

"Ah, thanks."

"Until then, please do not squander time by gazing at the Student Council President working harder than you."

First of all, Chihiro isn't gazing at him. Secondly, "Shut up,  _Pres_." Chihiro glares at him before he redirects it to his half of the work, purposely dropping the papers he's stapled together on to the table harder than necessary.

The President doesn't so much as twitch, let alone  _squander his precious time_  by looking over. A click of his tongue in irritation after, a number of papers are being shuffled together then stapled again, and again, and again.

Chihiro eventually comes to a form about a charity bake sale and skims through it, picks out keywords 'bake' and 'girl scouts' along with the name of an all-girl's middle school and an unfamiliar illness.

For this to be with him means it's already been added to the student council's agenda as something they'll personally handle.

Chihiro finds the fancy, red signature of the president at the bottom and still finds it rather funny in a surprising way, "Hey, Akashi, you're really going to bake?"

"Yes."

" _Seriously_?"

"Why so surprised?"

"I just presumed you had greater matters to tend to, like being a manipulative brat who breaks shit for attention."

Seijuurou's eyes flicker up from his writing and on to Chihiro, who always has little to no concern for how he addresses him, "It's true I'm immersed in many tasks but this too is important. The Rakuzan Student Council will proudly assist in spreading the awareness of this particular, uncommon illness."

"It says you have to bake," Chihiro checks the form. "About fifty of  _whatever_."

"I won't lose." Seijuurou surprises neither of them by bringing his  _reputation of consecutive wins since birth_  in to something like this, "Speaking of which, I'll need you later for taste testing."

“ _What_?”

Seijuurou returns to his work, shuffles a stack of signed paperwork together before pushing them to the end of his desk for Chihiro to collect. Then he reads, signs and pushes all over again, and again, sometimes discarding. For someone who behaves selfishly, he's taking on three times more than what he's dismissing, and it can't all be about his untarnished victory. "I'll be baking a selection of chocolate truffles to be sold and I'd a appreciate a second opinion on how they turn out as well."

“Why not ask Nebuya? He’ll eat anything.”

“Exactly. I require someone with a more selective palette.”

Chihiro glares a little, “Are you saying I’m  _picky_?”

“Not at all, but you’re being called upon nonetheless.”

“Even Hayama or Mibuchi will do, right?” Chihiro asks just when, after shuffling the next stack of papers to be stapled, he's looking at the form about replacing the broken vase, with a cost of several digits underneath. An eye twitching, he looks over and the president is already staring back. In Light Novels, there is no such thing as coincidence; everything happens on purpose. “Akashi, did you plan this?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mayuzumi-san," Seijuurou returns to his work but there's definitely a smirk on his face he could do well to at least pretend isn't there, "I’m far too immersed in being a  _manipulative brat_ , isn’t that right?”

 

* * *

 

**3\. Hayama's (Not So) Great Delusion.**

"Last one. Put those over there."

"You could at least ask nicely..."

"Just do it."

Chihiro's current circumstances won't allow him to disobey Hayama's impolitely-phrased commands, but he wouldn't be him if he obeys without muttering a curse under his breath. Whether Hayama hears him or not, he doesn't care enough to call him out on it and just observes. For the past thirty minutes, the second request has been to go back and forth in the gymnasium, carrying or hauling along equipment left out from previous sessions and making the storage room they belong in a little cleaner than it was.

Of all the school committees to be a part of, of course Hayama—springy, bouncy, over-energetic—is a part of the Phys-Ed one, where it's okay for him to all of a sudden do somersaults and backflips over objects— _people_  too, at the appropriate height level—to relieve some of his energy that's stored up in bouts. He throws a couple rogue basketballs in to the cupboard with a great cheer of someone who deserves a break after hard labour, which he  _isn't_ , and deserves the unappreciative glare that comes from the temporary assisting still pushing a vault apparatus  _on its way_  there.

A sprint and string of spontaneous back handsprings later, Hayama lays on the gymnasium floor with his head lifted expectedly.

Chihiro sighs, " _What_  now?"

Hayama's sneaker-clad feet  _jive_ , "Come over and spot me, man!"

"Can't you see I'm  _busy_?"

Hayama's eyes roll to the ceiling, "I'm warming up before my class starts," he looks back to the one-time assistant still clutching the vault apparatus (Chihiro would love it if he could just hurl this in to the cupboard but the damages would demand compensation from him as well). "If you're here to help then hold down my feet while I do sit ups."

Though he ultimately wishes he can say no but can't because of the circumstances, Chihiro thinks it over. Most athletes learn to do a series of sit ups without having their feet tethered to the floor by a human anchor. So why is this different? Chihiro's partial relief from the opportunity to leave the apparatus alone quickly fades when he sulkily wanders over to Hayama, sinks to his knees and grip his ankles.

Hayama immediately starts, his upper-body going up and down to each mental count.

"What's the point of this again?"

"To stay in shape," Hayama goes up, down, "And it's fun!"

"Right."

Hayama comes back up, goes down, up—"Hey, so, what's with you and Akashi?"

 _'Oh, great, he's talking.'_  "What do you mean?"

"'Cause you're always together and he's rarely with someone that's not in any of his clubs. So we've been wondering."

Chihiro squints, " _We_?"

"Me, Reo-nee and Eikichi,  _duh_." Hayama scoffs with another roll of his eyes and falls down again. He has to forgive the assumption that he and the two other first string basketball club members are three individuals rather than one whole collective with a spokesperson. "What's that  _look_  for? Akashi isn’t bad looking or anything, is he?”

“ _Why_  are you asking  _me_?”

“Because..." Hayama stares, brows scrunching, "Don’t you  _like_  him?”

"Is this a joke?"

"No?"

"You don't even know yourself."

Hayama shrugs like it's not big deal and keeps at his sit ups. Chihiro thinks that if someone doesn't a clue what they're talking about, that's even more reason for them to keep their mouths shut. "There's gotta be a good reason he keeps you around, right?"

" _Basketball_."

Hayama laughs, "But we play fine with or without you."

 _'Fucking ungrateful—'_  "Then ask him yourself. I just do what he asks because arguing takes more effort."

Hayama laughs again, wriggles his eyebrows suggestively and says something stupid, "Or is it so you can get  _something_  outta him? Watch out or his fans will strike."

Chihiro is muddled up. He feels and thinks so many things right now, he can't decide where to start or if he even should, his logic and sarcasm likely to be wasted on someone like Hayama Kotarou. Instead, he checks the time and the five minutes that have passed should be more than enough for a warm up, so he releases Hayama's ankles and  _literally_  exits the gymnasium and uncomfortable interrogation.

 

* * *

 

**4\. Reo’s Diagnosis On The (Love)Sick.**

 

Chihiro's next task that he's required to fulfil takes him to the school's infirmary to help Reo, a Health Committee member, tend to the students who check in from time to time. They arrive with minor injuries no more severe than thin cuts and light scraps and soft bruises, but at the prospect of being close with the popular Reo, some of the students tend to shamelessly embellish on how they gained their injuries and how high the pain is. A female second-year has enough nerve to push her paper-cut finger out and say it'll heal much quicker with a kiss rather than a bandaid, and a shy, male first year, once he gets past his stammering, insists he lay his dizzy head on Reo's lap.

Chihiro snorts loudly both times, the school ridiculously starting to become a cheesy romance drama. He can't believe this is his life right now, all because of Akashi Seijuurou; it's funny, in a sad way, the sorts of things he's capable of making happen to someone. For the last hour, Chihiro leaned against a wall with his latest light novel, determined to make real progress with the story with as little interruptions as possible, going so far as to ward off any student who approaches him in Reo's momentary absence with either  _'go away'_  or ' _don't bleed over the pages, idiot'_.

And it's  _this_  Reo can't believe, such a level of  _apathy_. But what do they want from Chihiro? He's not a member of the Health committee, he only has to  _pretend to care, t_ hat's his actual job. Besides, maybe Reo's blind to it or just choosing not to notice, but some of the injuries look self inflicted.  _Pathetic_.

Reo's dealing with another infatuated student with a paper-cut, keeping her at bay by her shoulders, when he looks back at his temporary assistant near the open first aid kit, "Can you pass me a bandaid?"

Chihiro's eyes flicker up from his book and over to the first aid kit that isn't even far enough from Reo to need extra hands, "It's just there, grab it."

"I'm asking for you to help."

"She's _fine_."

"What if it gets infected?  _Honestly_."

"It's just a paper-cut, for fuck's sake..." Chihiro mutters and returns to reading, a noticeably angrier gaze in his eyes that were otherwise as indifferent as always. His life's perpetuating obstacle seems to be the amount of people and situations keeping him from finishing even a chapter in peace, and it's only worsened ever since that time on the roof with Akashi and the vase he broke, damn it.

Reo sighs and fetches a bandaid himself, wraps it securely round the student's finger and now, thanks to Chihiro, feels included to send her off with a soft peck to her minor injury. The student squeals with a flustered face and she holds her finger closely. "There you go, all done. Be careful from now on, okay?" The student nods furiously, stammers out her gratitude and leaves in such a hype that the door closes behind her with a thunderous slam.

Chihiro moves on, finally, to the second last chapter.

Reo says, "Nice work."

"What for?"

"For keeping nearly all of your inappropriate comments to yourself. The students that come here can be a bit dramatic but they look up to me, so I can't just dismiss them."

"Seems that way."

"Still, be  _useful_  when the next student comes in." Reo doesn't get so much as a nod, let alone a verbal answer. He frowns, " _Honestly_ , I don't get it. What Sei-chan sees in someone like you." With an unsatisfied huff at another round of silence, he gives up on trying to talk to about this matter and sits at the small desk near the open window. From its drawer, he borrows a pen and sheet of paper and starts writing something to the simple hum of a soft rhythm. Two written lines after, Reo wears a troubled pout and taps the pen thoughtfully against his cheek, "Five syllables. What goes well after 'I'm watching you like a hawk'?"

"That's the weirdest word puzzle I've heard."

" _No_ , it's a  _haiku_."

"You're in to that, huh."

Reo rests his chin on an palm, smirking, "Aren’t you dying to know who it’s for?"

"Not my business." Chihiro wonders if Reo would even actually tell him, of all people. Especially as, with this kind of thing, people prefer their privacy.

"What if it's  _you_?"

Chihiro already doubts that because Reo, while he may be the nicest member of the basketball team, is still quick to dismiss him when he becomes uncooperative in and out of games. 

"You're not really talkative."

"I'm _trying_ to read."

Reo sighs, looks away and keeps his obvious pout.

They're in the silence Chihiro has, for a while, longed for, but not when there's obvious tension. He sighs heavily. He wouldn't ever label himself as a particularly nice person but, supposedly due to the circumstances, he decides to be generous, "Try... _see you on the court_."

"H-How...did you know?"

Chihiro turns to the next page, "Know what?"

Reo's mouth opens and closes indecisively until it's gaping. How is it the person he has his eyes on is easily suspected to be another basketball player? "N-Nothing." he eventually says and turns around to scribble down the suggestion as the last line to his haiku. He reads the three verses over, his crush in mind, then smiles fondly at Chihiro who, just maybe, isn't so useless.

 

* * *

 

**5\. Nebuya’s (Un)called For Dissertations.**

 

Chihiro's next task is to spot the basketball club's powerful center, supposedly needing to feed him support and encouragement through his extensive workout as he so effortlessly dominates the the school's expensive, top-of-the line equipment. But that isn't really Chihiro's field of expertise—being supportive or encouraging, that is—so he compromises; he'll simultaneously read and babysit his teammate to make sure he doesn't accidentally pull something that shouldn't be pulled, or break a limb or two-—Akashi would kill them both then, and  _somehow still win_  the upcoming match.

It's tiring, truthfully, watching the muscle-obsessed Eikichi Nebuya furiously use the leg curl apparatus while handling dumbbells in his hands. Being overly-muscular looks tiring too. Is it really necessary? Not that Chihiro minds—it's nothing to do with him, but the amount of sweat that drops and the amount of times the word 'muscle' is called out before most counts have become tedious and annoying.

Eikichi says, "You should try it."

Chihiro thinks he must be  _kidding_ , "No thanks."

"Muscle lift forty-six! Muscle lift forty-seven! But you're scrawny."

Chihiro's vein pops but he keeps composed, only hissing, "Mind your business." He's aware of how rude his anti-social behaviour comes across to a lot of people, but that comment just now is worse. Why is it that his teammates are only interested in him if they can nit-pick at things they have no say in? The more Chihiro wants to be alone, the more they gather. Like  _vultures_.

"What do we do if you get trampled over on the court?"

"What indeed?" Chihiro turns a page in his book and thinks it might be quite nice actually,  _not to be trampled over_  but to have the chance to sit out of a game just once and finish this Goddamn volume finally. He still has yet to reach the halfway mark and it's sad. "Why do you care?"

"We play with our bodies, and muscles are what move our body. So, with more muscles, we become better."

"I get that but there's no need to pile on so much."

"Muscle lift fifty-eight! Muscle lift fifty-nine—" Eikichi carries on chanting his nonsense while his legs and hands work. Then, suddenly, he adds this, "Akashi might appreciate it too."

Chihiro looks up from his book and the indifferent expression he constantly wears is slightly astonished, "You as well? Have you all lost your minds?"

"Then again," Eikichi overlooks Chihiro's slimmer body from head to toe. "He might appreciate the way you look now. I hear his type is someone elegant."

"A  _woman_ , you muscle-head."

Eikichi's laugh bellows, his stomach rumbling, "That's actually a compliment, thanks!"

Chihiro mutters a curse under his breath and lifts his book again—

Eikichi, no longer exercising for the time being, laughs some more and brings a hand down and across the unsuspecting senior's back. Chihiro jolts, the book tips out of his clutches.  _'What the fuck's with this guy?!'_  "Oh, my bad." Eikichi crouches down to retrieve the book and hands it back over before he leaves for the shower room. Chihiro can't imagine thanking him, because not only did he not ask for help but, inspecting the page he last read, there's now a smudge in the font from where Eikichi's sweat fingers touched it. He doesn't smile much or experience enough happiness like the average person but is his life really this unfortunate?

 

* * *

 

**6\. The Student Council President's Chocolates.**

Seijuurou takes control of one of the classrooms on the first floor in the home economics department to practice and perfect his chocolate making, and since he's proud, proper and seemingly perfect overall, he's gone the whole mile and even borrowed a cute chef's hat and matching apron--which he tied himself independently.

Concerned over where his mind may mislead itself to, Chihiro internally emphasises that the hat is cute, not Akashi. But then, of course, his mind wanders to the guise of Akashi Seijuurou being cute; It can be seen, sort of, or at least understood as Seijuurou is still only a first year, regardless of the impressive accomplishments he's accumulated under his belt. It's natural for a senior to think fondly of their junior—even if said junior has a tendency to be a manipulative brat.

"Thank you for joining me here as the taste sampler, Mayuzumi-san."

"You mean  _guinea pig_."

"Once again, it's however you prefer to phrase it."

"It's  _really not_."

"Let's begin."

Seijuurou efficiently spends a short amount of time baking with the prepared ingredients, impressively invoking skills and using theories he's never had the opportunity to before and succeeding. It's like witchcraft, Chihiro harmlessly jokes. But then, after trying one of the chocolates after freezing, he thinks it's definitely witchcraft enabling a first time baker to produce something this tasty.

Chihiro asks, "Have you put anything weird in this?"

"Such as?"

"I don't know," He  _does_. "Poison."

"I wouldn't do such a thing, we have a game coming up." Seijuurou hopes his absolute sincerity is reassuring enough, but bypassing the point entirely only unsettles Chihiro more and he continues to sample the chocolate truffle with a sour face, "How is it?"

It's actually good."

"That so? Then you can have those. I’ll make more.”

“Seriously?"

"Yes. I'm still practicing my technique after all. And now you can't say you've never received chocolate from someone."

"Shut up." Chihiro doesn't care if girls aren't really interested in him. Or maybe some are and he doesn't know it because he's made himself unapproachable over the years. It's exhausting to be in people's company, and people are loud. Who wants to be gushed over and idolised anyway? Attention like that—the kind 'Prince' type characters in light novels are constantly surrounded by—must be troublesome. Chihiro stares at Seijuurou, the epitome of prince archetypes and who even owns a pet as prestigious and fairytale-like as a  _horse_ , but will still argue that his normal life isn't remotely tethered to the fiction of light novels. Despite the fact he exists, Seijuurou Akashi is just  _impossible_.

"You said you like them. Do people not want what they like?”

Chihiro likes the  _deluxe Ringo-ta_ n figurine that dropped recently and wants money for that. By Seijuurou's standards and infinite claim of always being right, he should have it. Is he offering? "Thanks, I guess…”

“No, thank  _you_ , Mayuzumi-san. Open,” Seijuurou holds another chocolate truffle, this one coated in hazelnuts, to Chihiro's lips, waiting for him to do as he's been instructed. Chihiro's lips part for it to fall inside. Great satisfaction fills Seijuurou from seeing it enter so simply. He stares, perhaps, for too long while watching for a genuine facial reaction before a verbal one.

Chihiro grimaces, "Weird."

"What's so weird about chocolate?"

"Because it's  _you_."

"You need to be more specific." Seijuurou then swipes a thumb across a smear of chocolate left behind in the corner of Chihiro's mouth, licking it off with a pleased hum, "Mm, I'm particularly fond of the flavour the hazelnut adds."

After that, Chihiro, quite frankly, doesn't think he needs to be more specific.

 

* * *

 

 

**7\. Chihiro’s (Un)pleasant Discovery.**

 

Today, Chihiro is more irritated than usual.  
  
They don't care—club members Hayama, Reo or Eikicci, it's just what they happen to notice. Sitting on the roof top and glaring at his favourite light novel, Chihiro has become the embodiment of all a dark cloud entails: despair, desertion, like he's trying to end the world's existence.  
  
Hayama asks, "What should we do?"  
  
"What do you mean ' _we_ '? Clearly he's upset so let's leave him be." Reo suggests but the symptoms of melancholy are hard to ignore, long groans seeping out of Chihiro like thick, soundless smoke and a shadow curtained over his already lifeless. He's sitting on the roof as usual but with an unusual forward slant, his body stiff like a defective humanoid. "But, honestly, Sei-chan's going to be mad. Practice starts soon ." He likes Akashi, personally. He can be quite demanding but he respects his great captain, who is still his junior outside of the team, and somewhat dotes on him. So he'd hate for him to be unnecessarily upset.

“Hey, this is bad…” Hayama says nervously. “If Akashi sees us all here instead of at practice then—”

“Then you will all need to explain yourselves.” says Seijuurou, pushing open the door and joining the group on the rooftop. He takes a couple steps forward past them all, “What’s the matter with you, Mayuzumi-san?”

Chihiro’s voice is quieter than usual, “Leave me alone, you wouldn’t understand.”

“See?” Reo says. “We should just leave him be.”

“He could be sick,” Eikichi supposes. “Maybe ate something funny.”

“If you can eat enough for  _forty_  people and stay standing, then I doubt he’s in any danger.”

“Let’s find out.” Seijuurou crouches to Chihiro's level. Closer now, he makes out incessant mumblings of  'Ringo-tan, they've wronged you' and 'those fuckers' in quick repetition. He places a hand on his shoulder, “Mayuzumi-san, explain yourself. Are you unwell?”

“Akashi, I'm pissed. They’ve destroyed my precious Ringo-tan.”

“Your precious...? Ah, the protagonist of the novel you like.”

“They made her hair shorter for the upcoming arc.” Chihiro's problem is more of a fan protest. He's finally reached the conclusion of the latest volume  _'A Clockwork Apple and Honey and Little Sister'_   and on the final page is an illustration of the protagonist's new appearance: pretty-pink hair that originally flowed in long, wavy wisps under a bright bow has now been redesigned to be a scruffy bob-cut. Chihiro has nothing against the hairstyle by itself, but on the beloved protagonist he's spent more time viewing in her original form, it's not complimentary. It's as if someone has took something heavy and dug it deep in to Chihiro's gut for him to lament over.

Eikichi whispers to Hayama and Reo, “Hey, isn’t he taking this weird? He barely says anything and usually he doesn’t care about anything, but some girl’s hair?”

"Yeah," Hayama agrees, “Even Reo-nee would get a grip.”

Reo frowns, “Can you not talk as if I’m not here? Anyway, I wonder how Sei-chan’s going to solve this. Practice should’ve started already.”

"You're obviously shaken by this, Mayuzumi-san." Seijuurou carries on in a calm, sympathising manner. "But you're disrupting practice. Unless you’re unwell and have a doctor’s note, you’re not excused.”

Chihiro swats the hand away and pulls Seijuurou in by his shirt collar, "Fuck you, Akashi." The other teammates gasp in horror. No one ever defies their Captain, and definitely no one ever lays a hand on him either without repercussions. "I don't care that you're my junior. If you minimise this shit, I won't forgive you."

“Sei-chan!” Reo gasps.

“C-Crap!" Hayama exclaims, "Is he really gonna hit him?!”

Seijuurou remains as composed as ever, “I may not understand personally but I know how much she means to you. Change isn’t always agreeable but sometimes it’s for the best.”

“Shut up. Sometimes shit like this is worse than  _character death_. Having to look at her as she is now, I’d rather remember her as she was before.”

“I see."

“What is happening here?" Hayama asks even though the three of them don't have much of a clue. "No, seriously. Is he trying to comfort that guy?!”

Seijuurou stands, holds a hand out, "I'm sure Ringo-tan-san would prefer that you carry on despite this unfortunate news."

Hayama, Reo and Eikichi squint, "...Ringo-tan- _san_?  _Seriously_ , Akashi?"

“Don’t talk like you know her, Akashi.” Chihiro says defensively, taking hold of the hand and standing also.

“Not at all, but I have a grasp of her personality from the stories you’ve shared.”

“Akashi, right now, you’re actually  _decent_.”

Seijuurou's chuckle, a soft rise and fall in a light tone with a pretty balance, surprises them all. Not even when Rakuzan takes their expected victories in games does he show such a side to himself. "That’s high praise from you. Let me buy you a hot beverage to ease your loss.”

“Sure, thanks.” Chihiro agrees and leaves the rooftop with Seijuurou, like the two of them getting along so well is considered normal. It's true that men can bond over food and drinks, the other three ponder, but  _this is a little insane_.

Hayama clicks his tongue, “What a  _bastard_.”

"Language!" Reo snaps.

"If any of us tried to interfere with practice, we'd be in trouble, but that guy gets off! Akashi's even buying him a drink! What the hell?!"

Eikichi rubs his bearded chin, watching the rooftop exit, "I wonder if I shoud join them and get another snack before practice."

Reo sighs, “Sei-chan obviously sees something worthwhile in him, that’s all.” he explains, but as their Seijuurou and Chihiro go downstairs together, noticeably  _in step_ , he can’t help but wonder if that 'worthwhile something' is strictly basketball related or more.

* * *

 

**8\. Seijuurou Akashi's (Un)expected Break From His Responsibilities.**

 

Chihiro's task of fulfilling requests for his teammates finally ends, so he returns to the student council room to be relieved when he finds the President napping on the windowsill, the window open enormously. Seijuurou is beautiful with the sun radiating off him, the soft breeze blowing wisps of cherry blossoms to his hair. What kind of unfair reality is this where someone like him can be so handsome and relaxed while someone like Chihiro has had to run around and waste energy on other people?

But, since it's Seijuurou Akashi, who can have whatever he wants, it isn't too much of a mystery.

Of all the places to nap too, he’s picked a cliche setting. Protagonists have to sit next to the window—it’s the _rule_ , in case an alien or car crashes through to flip their life around. Chihiro wonders if those things might happen. He wonders if he should wake the student council president up nicely or push him out the window (it won’t kill him, they’re on the ground floor). Then again, an injured Seijurou will probably ask for compensation too, which would be more trouble.

Chihiro walks over and pokes him, “Hey, wake up. Who even sleeps by an open window anyway? If you fall out, that's your fault.”

Seijuurou awakens slowly, eyelids lifting first, then they glance around the room in recollection before settling on Chihiro. "Oh, Mayuzumi-san, hello. Sorry, I drifted off. What is it?"

Chihiro's words are suspended in his throat at the sight of Seijuurou rubbing at his eyes in such a cute way. "N-No. I did everything you told me to. Am I off the hook now?"

The peace on Seijuurou's face from when he was sleeping vanishes, replaced with a bothered one, “Nearly. My final request is that you stay until after the Winter Cup. Then you've officially compensated me for the broken vase."

Chihiro snorts. The basketball Captain is pretty sneaky, making him remain as a member until the last match that's just before the third year graduation ceremony. " _You_ broke it.”

Seijuurou smirk from the very start of all this returns, "It's your word against mine, the Student Council President with a perfect attendance record who is also a Club Captain." He generously waits for a sarcastic comebacks but Chihiro settles with a long, irritated gaze. Seijuurou comes down from the windowsill, walks to his desk that has more paperwork for him to sign; he took a short break he felt he deserved because, while he won't admit this, he's still human too and is subject to fatigue and, sometimes, head-splitting migraines. "Practice resumes as usual after school, so I expect you to be present. The Winter Cup finals will take place in a couple of days."

"I know." Chihiro wants to add that it’s the  _semi_ -finals and their place in the final round hasn't been secured yet, but he knows Seijuurou will just say he's foreseen their victory, that he's never lost and never will, so Chihiro leaves it there.

 

* * *

 

**9\. The Melancholic Interval at the Winter Cup.**

 

 _'Something jinxed it'_ , Chihiro thinks when he’s sweaty and breathless and can’t hear his own curses over the buzzer, roar of amazed fans, the joyous crying of the Winter Cup winning team, Seirin. What is it Seijuurou Akashi always says? He is  _absolute_ ; he’s never lost and never loses. Then what’s this shitty outcome?

“Fuck’s sake…” Chihiro wipes his face with his shirt while he watches his captain shake hands with Seirin’s no.11. He isn’t so mad at their loss but while playing, it was as if Seijuurou became someone else—someone more tolerant and sympathetic—so being frustrated now is a bit difficult. Whether Chihiro had a lecture prepared or not, the teary-eyed Seijuurou is much calmer now.

He’s been... _revived_.

Chihiro's mind is constantly churning out ‘what the fuck?’ up until it’s only the two of them left in the locker room after the others to wait on the bus. Seijuurou divulges as much as he deems necessary about his second personality, about the pressure put on him that he couldn’t bear the weight of, and how he's returned to his prominen self after his loss against Seirin has, more or less, caused him to have a change of heart. “So this entire time...?”

Seijuurou nods.

“What about when you fed me chocolates?" Chihiro asks and it's too late to reword that, his curiosity having beaten his rationality to the punch and left him to deal bare a faint flush on his complexion.

“I've generally been aware of the situations I've voluntarily placed myself in."

“... _Meaning_?”

“Meaning it wasn’t accidental that I gave you chocolates. I wanted to, so I did. Does it bother you?”

“I don’t really care either way but it makes sense. There’s always that minor or secondary character with a serious problem no one sees coming. It’s usually the transfer student but sometimes it’s the alien too.”

Seijuurou chuckles, “I’m unsure how I should take that comment, but thank you so much for all your hard work leading up to now.”

Chihiro thought he’d hate hearing that after being practically left on the shelf like a bad light novel halfway through the match, but he can’t say he didn’t at least enjoy the last minutes of the final quarter, playing  _with_  Seijuurou instead of  _for_.

* * *

 

 

**10\. Chihiro’s (Un)Surprisingly Memorable Graduation.**

 

Since Seijuurou Akashi knows everything before it happens, and not at all because things have been this way everyday for the past year, he knows where to find his senior who doesn’t show up at the graduation celebratory gathering: up on the rooftop, with another book too. Neither of them speak for a while, Seijuurou considerately allowing his graduated senior more time for his everlasting quest for peaceful solace. That and he's still sorting through his mind, gathering his refined thoughts.

In the end, rather than starting off seriously, Seijuurou's refreshed and comfortable enough to say what first came to mind the moment he came to the rooftop, "I believe you hold some desire for your life to reflect pieces of the novels you studiously read."

"I think  _you_  want that so you can have ridiculous opportunities to get my attention."  
  
"I'm Akashi Seijuurou. I don't need tricks or gimmicks to get my senior's attention." Seijuurou declares and comes over to initiate a kiss.

In most cases, light novel protagonists experience a phenomena of bursting stars or fireworks as they're engulfed in a roseate world of huge hearts, supposedly beating as much as their own. Nothing of the sort happens in reality; Chihiro forgoes internal over-analysis to be in the moment, debates the trend of closing his eyes to see Seijuurou. Whatever he could've possibly expected to feel or conceive based on the happenings of fictional works, it's unlikely it could've been a fair contender against this moment here and now, in real life.

To think he'd wind up doing this with an impossible brat.

That's also a recurring trope though, isn't it? The protagonist being matched with someone different to most expectations. But if Seijuurou Akashi himself is choosing to do this with him, however, then because he has been absolute for most of his life, Chihiro has little to no reason to disagree.

Chihiro, afterward, asks, "What was that?"  
  
"Why, Mayuzumi-san, from all the light novels you've read in your spare time, shouldn't you know what a kiss is? Unless, am I your  _first_?" Seijuurou asks with a smile not as innocent as he tries to train his tone to be, coming across as smug instead. Or just very pleased.  
  
"Am I  _yours_?"  
  
"I believe I asked you first."  
  
"Are you really sixteen?"

"Sorry," Seijuurou smiles, "Yes, you're my first."

And  _why_ , Chihiro asks himself, does that make him feel superior to all the others who have ever so much as dreamt of having Seijuurou Akashi's attention? "You know, saying it like that makes me out to be some kind of predator.”

“Not necessarily. If anything, I took advantage of the opportunity that presented itself in your kindness.” Seijuurou compromises, once more hoping to reassure but evidently just making his senior find the situation all the more  _sad_. “How many can say they’ve been this intimate with me? You should feel honoured.”

“That I’ve got the affection of an overconfident brat? Yeah, life goals right there.”

"Have I at least given you a memorable send off,  _senpai_?”

Chihiro doesn’t know what exactly but hearing that from him does  _something_ ; his body  _shudders_. "Don't start being formal now," he begs in contempt for the way it makes him hot and bothered. "And is that why you did it?”

“I kissed you simply because I wanted to and to thank you for your hard work.”

“Don’t keep Mibuchi, Hayama and Nebuya waiting then. They worked hard too.”

“Don’t misunderstand my intentions, Mayuzumi-san. It’s just you.” Seijuurou comes closer, pulls on Chihiro’s school tie and loosens it from his neck. “If you’re the main character then please think of me as the love interest.”

“My life’s not a light novel…” Chihiro affirms.

“Even so," Seijuurou leans in more, "I think you deserve a happy ending.”

Chihiro kisses him back this time, fond of their intimacy and feeling all sorts of weird and all kinds of nice but too distracted by Seijuurou's tongue to go through them all. His high school life ends on this sweet, memorable note of their kiss on the school rooftop. A petal from the cherry blossom tree at the entrance drifts by in happy blessing, its cliche timing also disproving the notion that Chihiro Mayuzumi's life isn’t at all like a light novel in the smallest bit when it so obviously is.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading if you've reached here! ❤ ( ´ ▽ ` )
> 
> . 1#: Seijuurou breaking the vase himself is not the ideal way I wanted things to go but if he could score in his team’s basket just to make a point then he probably wouldn’t be above this too _(plus it's just my excuse to use the ohshc trope)_.
> 
> . #4: I was reading Reo’s wikia page the other night and read it was implied he’s got a crush on Takao-kun ❤ ( ´ ▽ ` ). BUT Reo apparently likes someone on his own team. Still, I already had the haiku beforehand lol. I used to write a lot of poetry as a child and I’ve recently started challenging myself with making up haikus on the spot about characters I like. The one I made up for this fic in fullness is: _‘The one I fell for (5), I’m watching you like a hawk (7), see you on the court (5)’_. Change the second verse to _'I really want to be yours (7)'_ and it can fit someone else too.
> 
> . #7: this comes from my frustration with how many characters cut their hair in Last Game. It started with Akashi cutting his hair at the winter Cup ( _it thankfully grew back_ ) but then it was others! Give it back, their hair! ❤ (Ｔ▽Ｔ)
> 
> **PS.** Thanks to Chihiro and because I've written this, I've ordered myself a Light Novel. But the point of this is that I was also looking for bookmarks and found one that read: _'Fuck off, I'm trying to read. Seriously, fuck off, you'_ and that's just a very Chihiro Mayzumi thing, don't you think?


End file.
